Star-Stranded
by NickeltheRed
Summary: First-time Captain Jim Hawkins becomes stranded in Neverland where he meets the Lost Boys who have a young mother called Wendy Darling. Will the children be able to help Jim leave? Post-films. {Disney verse. Implied Peter/Wendy/Jim Hawkins triangle.}


**Even though this takes place in the Dinsey!verse, all media types (of either franchise) may still apply. Thanks!**

* * *

Stranded. He's actually stranded.

Jim's heart is pounding in his ears. Confusion fogs his senses until eventually, the smell of drifting smoke from the wreckage brings him back to awareness.

How could this happen? How could he be so daft? So...so _stupid_ and so naive? Again. A first-time Captain and he's already separated from the ship, his men, his cargo! He's off course and utterly alone. His new vessel is burned to bits now and buried half deep in sand.

Jim lets out a shaky breath.

He's tried so hard to be a _good_ man, a decent leader who is worthy of his comrades, but somehow his choices _always_ come around to bite him in the backside. And suddenly, his grief and all his frustrations boil over making Jim _scream_ his fury out to the sea. The beautiful tropical horizon stretching out before him is mocking, and he's _offended_ by it. He's dirty, hungry, and helpless with no real connections while the sun still has the nerve to shine brightly like nothing is wrong.

He bends over, throwing a large white stone down hard into the water just to hear the _splash!_ break through the surface.

He's sixteen-nearly-seventeen, finished with school one year early so he finally could show everyone what he's really made of, and _this_ is where he ends up. The middle of nowhere—somewhere he can't name on a map.

Exhausted and distraught, his legs give in beneath him, chest tight, eyes stung with tears, Jim falls to the ground.

"...Boy, why are you crying?"

Jolting, Jim is startled by the voice. In a heartbeat, he looks towards _her_. A girl, perhaps thirteen? Perhaps fourteen or so, standing there along the beach staring down at him curiously and full of concern.

Though caught by surprise, Jim doesn't miss the fact that she's barefoot, that she's only wearing a lacey purple nightgown that's carefully wrapped in skeleton leaves and acorns. Her hair is down, pretty auburn curls free from any bows or ties and they shine a reddish color under the light. But, it's her eyes that pull him in. All anger melts away the longer he gazes into them, those eyes, blue and brilliant as the sky itself.

He scrambles to his feet with a thousand more questions running through his mind. "Who are you?" is the first.

"Wendy Moria Angela Darling." She says proudly, then she catches herself. "...And you are?"

"Jim. Jim Hawkins. Captain Hawkins, now actually."

She recoils from him quickly, inspecting his choice of ship uniform. "Are you a...pirate?"

Jim blinks. "What? No. I'm a sailor."

Shaking her head, Wendy tsks to show her disappointment. "Here in Neverland, there's not much of a difference."

"Well, I'm not a pirate!" he protests. "What are you s'pposed to be? A native savage or somethin'?"

A nerve in Wendy is struck, causing her to flinch with annoyance. She lifts her chin at him, hands balling into fists. "I beg your pardon, but I happen to be a proper young lady of English society!"

"Pfft." Jim is obviously skeptical. "Is that so? Then why are you dressed like _that_?"

Wendy flushes red. "I—" she stammers, "—I—it's just what we wear in Neverland, alright? It's easier to hide this way, to blend into the jungle and not be seen by our enemies."

"Why do you keep _saying_ that? Neverland?"

"Because it's where you _are_ , silly! Where we are!"

"Well, I never heard of it."

"Because it isn't drawn on any map," Wendy confirms. "You can only find it if you're truly lost."

"Uh?"

"If you haven't been claimed within seven days by someone who cares for you."

"That's about how long I've...I've been away from my men. And, oh no...I ended up here." Jim's temper cools, and, there's a tragic far-off look on his face. Reality hits him hard. "I can't wait here. I need to leave."

Wendy sighs. "Leaving Neverand won't be that simple. It's place of magic, you realize? The Island has its rules, its own mysterious nature. Time is swallowed up here. Only Peter knows how to leave and come back to it on a whim."

"So...are you telling me the _Island_ will hold me hostage?" Glaring at her, Jim starts to stroll off judging the depth of the water, but Wendy still trails behind him stubbornly.

"No," Wendy reconsiders out loud. "You are free to try. But _I_ wouldn't jump if I were you. You can swim as far as the water will carry you, no one will stop you. Though the sea is wide, and deep, and dangerous. It's a fool's choice. Besides, the mermaids like to play in these parts and drown sailors. I'd say, Neverland itself...is more of a test."

"A test?" Jim shoots back. "For what?"

"For what you really want in life. The Island has conjured up Indians, and cannibals, and jealous pixies that pull your hair when you're not watching. You never know what to expect. You never know what it may throw in your path. Neverland knows you better than you know yourself. It knows your most silent fears, your deepest doubts. And if you don't see through all that, those things will ground you. Disbelief and logic weigh you down."

"Weigh me down?"

"Yes, from flying out."

"I have a ship that flies," Jim says.

Wendy pauses. "You do?"

"Yeah. My men and I sail through the stars, searching for outer planets. That's what we do where _I_ come from."

"Oh my." Wendy's momentarily entranced by the idea. "Can you fly without the ship?"

"No, of course not! Leaving the ship means suicide. There's other life forms, black holes, stellar heat and stuff."

"Well," she huffs in turn, "that's what I mean. You'll need be able to fly on your own, just you, if you want to leave Neverland."

"So, wait a second." Jim whirls on her. "Why are _you_ here?"

Wendy flutters her lashes up at him in question. "I've been here before, with Peter. Every Springtime."

"No. I mean, out on the beach? How did you know I'd be stranded here?"

"I didn't. I was out walking my she-wolf, passing by, then I saw the smoke from...whatever that thing is."

"My vessel. That thing helped _me_ fly. And it's ashes now."

"Then come and meet Peter. He shall tell you what do."

"Oh?" he arcs his brow. "And what if I told you that I don't like strangers ordering me around?"

Smiling in triumph, Wendy retreats, gracefully turning on her heel. "What other choice do you have at the moment, _Captain_?"

* * *

Peter Pan is just a boy; a childish boy who can fly, and crow. He is a highly esteemed figure amongst the children of Neverland.

But Jim doesn't see the importance of his presence. Despite the enchanted atmosphere he sees surrounding Pan, Jim also notices how proud Pan is of himself. He's cocky.

Gosh. Why does Wendy favor him so?

Jim follows behind her that night to help her carry baskets of grain inside, not wanting to be stuck with all the Lost Boys probing into his personal business any longer. On compulsion, he has to ask her just that. "Wendy, why do you believe in him so much?"

"Peter?"

"Yes."

"Well, I may be wrong...but I like to think he believes in me, too, just as much. That's always a nice thought to keep, don't you think?"

* * *

"Don't you trust me, Jim lad?"

Pan smirks. Jim scowls.

"I would not trust you to tie my shoes for me, Pan, let alone make me fly."

"What a stupid codfish thing to say after all the help I've given you."

"Well maybe I don't _want_ you to bother."

The wild younglings covered in furs gasp loudly around the table.

"Boys, please," Wendy snaps with all her motherly prowess, setting a bowl of fresh apples down between them. "That's enough! I don't to hear arguing during my supper."

Jim looks her way, pointing straight at Peter who instantly quiets down. "But you hear him! He's being impossible."

Peter leans forward in his head chair, casually wagging his finger. "You mind what Mother says."

"Really? That's it?" Jim challenges him. "She pipes up and you got nothin' more to boast about?"

"No," Peter naturally returns. "I'm a devoted son."

Wendy blushes, Tink rolls her eyes, and Jim clutches his jaw.

* * *

"Jim?"

He's wandering up the beach again, shuffling his feet, kicking at the sand and broken seashells. Wendy comes up alongside him, seeming content and interested, bathed in the vibrant colors of the sunset once more.

"...I have to go," He repeats with longing. "Or I'll...I'll really become a lost nobody if I don't."

"Then you should stop being so stubborn," suggests Wendy, rather persistently. "The boys already think you're too grown up to talk to. You're still weighing _yourself_ down. If you want to fly, Jim, and be free of your fears, you must put more effort into it. Be more open to our ways here in Neverland."

* * *

Tink keeps staring at Peter, then she keeps looking away knowingly over and over again, as if she knows a secret. And it's annoying. Peter sighs, finally glancing towards her.

"What?"

Tink shrugs. "Just the Wendy Bird and the Captain boy."

"What about 'em?"

"He loves her."

Peter wavers and he actually stubbles out of the air, landing in a dusty heap upon the great bear rug. "Jim? Loves Wendy?" Peter pushes himself up, not knowing what else to say. "Impossible. He doesn't even call her Mother."

"He does not say much about it," Tink jingles at him in agreement. "But the words are there, in his eyes. I can see it. He looks at her when she's not watching him. It's the same look Tiger Lily gives you sometimes. He loves her as something more than a mother."

"But surely Wendy would not care!" Peter searches eagerly for an excuse, for a more plausible reason to make Tink assume such ridiculous ideas. "She's loyal to Neverland. She does not want a love like his."

* * *

Long John Silver once told Jim that sailing with a spirited woman is bad luck for the crew.

Wendy is not a full woman, but she's close enough. And now, Jim is starting to _understand_ what Silver was hinting at. They are bad luck—these females, females like Wendy—because he's having trouble remembering the faces of his men when she's in the room with him. She is all what he sees in front of him all day long and he's losing focus of his other goals.

She's not _just_ a pretty little thing with a pretty little singing voice; she's insightful, imaginative, and she makes it look _so_ easy, being adored by the Lost Boys.

The boys busy themselves by climbing across the rocks that tower out of the sea, laughing, and enjoy chasing the giggling mermaids circling in the waters below.

Jim lingers on the side for a moment because he still doesn't feel like he's one of them yet. He's not a part of their tribe. He doesn't really wish to be, at least not forever. With his hands stuffed into his trousers he leans back against a big boulder of his own, watching them go play, especially Wendy, although as usual, she's with Peter.

At first, Peter and Wendy's bond appears to be one-sided, and slightly awkward, and forced. So before, Jim thought no one could ever reach Pan on a personal level, that no one could make his barriers crack, no one could make Pan worry. But the more Jim observes, the more he watches Pan interact, things are honestly quite the contrary. Wendy Darling also affects him deeply.

She teases Peter like they're sweethearts, she talks to him as though they've been best friends for a thousand years, gives him medicine every night like a loving mother, and she protects him like a brother. They actually go well together.

Pan currently flies up to Wendy and presents another acorn to her. She has a necklace full of acorns already. Jim doesn't get why it's so significant, but this gesture can make Wendy smile like she was just kissed by a crown prince.

Pan's floating around her, twirling her, grabbing her hand, heaving her off the rocks. Twisting her, lets her drop a bit in the wind, then catches her again effortlessly before she falls too far down. He does it over again and it becomes like a dance for them. Wendy's laughter rings out over the coast.

* * *

They are alone right now as the others go hunting with the Chief, which is why Peter does not bother maintaining his typical mask of glee and shrewdness. He crosses his arms, staring into the cozy red campfire he's just lit for Wendy.

She stops rocking in her little mother's chair, and looks up from the all the stockings she has to darn in her lap. "Is something troubling you, Peter?"

Clearly sulking, he appears irked. Betrayed, even. "You let Jim help you sew him a new coat this morning."

"I did," she nods simply, "A new coat was in order. His shirt was carelessly ripped at the sleeve by Curly's knife recently. You know that. His clothes are nothing but rags now. So I thought he'd like a something else to wear."

"But I saw you."

"Saw me do what?"

"When you were running out of hands to use, you handed _him_ the kiss to hold for you."

Wendy froze. "Oh, that."

"That was my kiss, Wendy," Peter points out. "That's the one you gave to me when we met in the nursery. It is supposed to be mine. You said so."

"You're right, Peter. I am sorry, that was foolish of me. It won't happen again."

"Fret not, Mother Wendy." Reclining back and hands folding behind his head, Peter is pleased and justified with his cap tilting down over his eyes. Wendy has redeemed herself. "You are entirely forgiven."

* * *

"Strange pale one," Tiger Lily beckons Jim forward using the common speech in Neverland, "Stop staring and come plant with me."

"No—I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to pry—I mean, I won't any help to you. I'm no farmer." He drops the chopping axe, patting his hands clean on his clothes.

"Then, I shall teach you how things grow from the earth. Kneel here beside me."

"I _know_ how things grow, Your...Your Highness?" Jim doesn't exactly know what to call her. Wendy claims Tiger Lily is a princess, but Jim's pretty sure that settler Natives don't have a word for royalty—he's heard that somewhere, from men who have traveled around the world. Besides, Tiger Lily wears no red cape, no golden crown. In fact, she doesn't even wear _shoes_ most days. "I just don't plant seeds myself," he adds quickly. "Where I come from, most of the trees are big and old. Everything was already made and built a long time ago before I was born."

"Though how can you understand how things grow when you were never the one to give them life?" she inquiries, moving the soil around with her fingers. "As my aunt would say, you are like those young husbands who know they want six or seven sons, but they do not know where they must plant their seeds in their woman first."

Jim's caught off guard by her words, but he obeys her just the same and kneels. "I see your point...I guess. But I _do_ know how children are made too. I am old enough to know that much."

"Children are not so different than rising corn. They need tender hands and a watchful eye, but one day, when they are ready their harvest time will come, and then you see what they are truly made of."

"But you don't age. How do your children grow in Neverland? Wendy says you won't."

"You foolish pale face," Tiger Lily chuckles. "That doesn't stop lovers on the Island from planting their seeds of pleasure and making babes. We have many babes in the villages now because of that, but it's not all bad. Their innocent newborn spirits are what keeps the nature magic here strong."

"So it is possible to raise a family here, then? Even though your newborns will stay newborns?"

"You wish to become a father?"

"Yeah." Jim shrugs. "I mean, yes, I thought about it. I haven't ruled it out. I think I'd want that one day. Fall in love and raise a family of my own."

"Then...," Tiger Lily notes firmly, "...make certain you can leave the Never Shores for good, pale one."

Jim blinks. "Sorry?"

"You shall not find a suitable mother for you. You must look elsewhere. The stars are far and wide. No doubt a special woman out _there_ is waiting to become your lover."

"What makes you say _out there_?" Jim shifts awkwardly beside her.

"I have eyes that can see the morning birds nesting at the highest treetops. They are good and they are sharp. I have seen the way you look at the Mother Wendy Bird."

"So, what of it?"

"Stop looking. Keep your eyes ahead on the heavens. Do not get more attached and do not try to cage her for yourself."

Jim is puzzled. "I don't get it. You're saying this to protect Wendy?"

"I am saying this because I know _Pan_. I know Neverland."

Jim rolls his eyes at this. "Sure, you and everyone else around here."

"I warn you. You do not simply take from him and become the winner, pale one."

"Pan doesn't _love_ Wendy like that, anyhow. So why would I even have to _win_ her?"

"You underestimate Pan. He soars into the air and can touch the clouds and kill pirates...but he is a _boy_. And boys can be self-centered. They can be protective over what they call their own. You should know that being one."

"Wendy sometimes...smiles at Pan like she's lost her mind...," Jim admits to her thoughtfully, "...because girls like her do that. She cares about him. But even if Pan returned the favor, I know she wouldn't want to be _owned_."

"But she does not mind being _prized_ by Pan, pale one, and Pan trusts her more than anyone. That is where the thorn of truth might prick you and become hard to accept. Mother Wendy Bird will always have her place here in Neverland. The story of Pan is not really his true story without a Wendy in it."

* * *

Wendy comes skipping up next to him with her skirts swaying and her hands delicately folded behind her back.

"Three questions."

Confused, Jim briefly laughs at the sweetness beaming across her face. "What?"

"Three questions. Play with me."

"No way."

"I will let you go first," Wendy bargains.

Jim reconsiders it, but then insists, "No. Ladies first."

"What do you hate?"

Jim looks away. "I hate not being able to be a good man yet, like my father was. You?"

Wendy hums. "I hate...that science claims that all stars in the sky must go out and disappear someday. What do you long for more than anything right now?"

"To be reuntited with my men. To carry on with our voyage. To go home. What about you?"

"I wish to see you happy, Jim Hawkins. To see you fly." Playfully, she nudges him in the shoulder with her own. "So I can say I told you so."

Jim scoffs. "You are that sure of yourself?"

"I have been wearing you down and you know it. I've been right all along."

"You're a weird girl, Wendy Darling."

"Have faith. Things will turn around."

"Alright." Jim laughs once more. "I s'ppose."

And Wendy's opening her hands, unexpectedly blowing something straight into his eyes. He blinks. It's dust. Dust that glimmers like the sunlight and it makes a soft musical note as it swirls around him. Jim coughs, though he's still smiling. "Whoa. Hey. What the seven hells was that?"

Wendy smirks. "Pixie dust."

"It's just a game though. Right? It's fake."

"See for yourself."

And, Jim does. He glances down at his boots, suddenly realizing he's off the ground.

* * *

With Jim's new ability to fly and having the access to the skies and beyond, he and Pan can write out all the messages on the back of the winds as he desires.

Soon enough, a floating ship with a crescent moon painted on the front of its sails finally comes sailing in from the clouds and makes port on the bluffs, searching for Jim.

* * *

Peter stalls, gazing between Jim and Wendy before he decides out loud, "Ah, I'll...gave you a moment to say farewell."

Jim waits till Peter's several feet in the opposite direction when he faces Wendy with a saddened, gentle urgency in his stance. "Thank you. For not giving up on me."

Wendy grins in acceptance. "I told you, Captain Hawkins. Sometimes all it takes is some faith, trust, and pixie dust."

He grabs at her hand. "Come with me."

She looks torn, and inquiring. "When would we come back?"

"I don't know if we can." Jim sighs, then shakes his head. "Maybe never."

"But what about spending Springtime in Neverland? Christmas in London with Mother and Father?"

"There're more stars out there than you can _count_ , Wendy! Here is your chance to say you've seen them."

After another moment of thought, she stares at what is around her, at the sky, the sand, and the sea. Considering. Pondering.

"Neverland needs a Mother," Wendy declares at last, kindly, apologetically. "I think I would like to stay within Peter's star sight."

* * *

 **NOTE : I am aware that this crossover could be longer and fleshed out more, but I wanted it this way. It's supposed to be straight to the point and read easily in fractions.**


End file.
